


future (imperfect)

by kantele



Series: Grindeldore one-shots [18]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gellert centric, How Do I Tag, M/M, Nonlinear Time, Seer Gellert Grindelwald, Visions, idk what this is, me exploring Gellert's Sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kantele/pseuds/kantele
Summary: Wetting his lips, he starts to speak, his voice breathless with Knowing, “The Future, things that Have Yet to Happen, things that Have Happened and things that Will Not Anymore, dark things, wonderful things. I See paths not taken, paths that Have Yet to Come. Most of all I See you. As you Were, as you Are, as you Could Be. As you Will Be.”---Weird, non-linear exploration of Gellert's Sight. Probably pretentious.(I have changed my username. My previous username was LostMyHeartToHim)





	future (imperfect)

**Author's Note:**

> this just came to me and I wrote it as if in a trance. i'm not entirely sure what it is ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The girl lies dead on the floor. Gellert flees.

The Future Shifts.

* * *

The Future, Gellert Knows, is Everchanging. It is made of Choices and Paths not taken. He feels it Shift as he moves in the world, with every breath, with every step he takes. There is no Inevitability. Those that have come before him have all had their Revelations, their Visions and Warnings. They have all been so sure of their rightness, all so sure that they Know what is to come. Gellert Knows better. There are too many Steps that one can take; too many things that can go wrong; too many butterflies flapping their wings. There is no Destiny: no Permanence or the Right Choice. There are only Paths with too many options. He Sees them all. And he intends to stay on the right one.

But there is no such thing as the Right Choice

* * *

Their hands intertwine, and he gasps from the force of it. Behind his eyelids, The Future swirls out of control, paths disappearing and appearing with such a speed that he can hardly keep up. He closes/closed/had closed his eyes and breathes. The air is crackling with magic, heavy with the power they have unleashed. Finally, he opens his eyes. Albus is watching him, with tears in his pretty blue eyes/dead eyes/eyes that are too old/eyes that are too young/eyes that will Never Be. For a moment, Gellert wonders if he had Felt it also; the heavy weight of Potential. Gellert does not ask. Instead, he reels him in.

Albus always tastes of Things That Could Be.

* * *

He holds the Wand in his hand, and he is Invincible. The world trembles before him. He looks out at it; sees all the people of the world and the lands they inhabit. There are no shadows anywhere. He feels himself smiling. He has done the impossible. No more hiding. No more cowering in the shadows like rats. The sun shines. He closes his eyes. A hand lands on his arm. He blinks. His mother looks at him, frowning at him disapprovingly. He looks back at the wand in his hand. It resembles a branch of a rose tree. The thorns have punctured his skin and blood is slowly dripping down on the floor. He raises his head to look at wandmaker who is wringing his hands together; his head bowed deferentially to his _Mutter_. He smiles the way his _Mutter_ had taught him; the way he knows will give him anything, the way that will soothe the souls of Those Who Will Follow and unnerve Those Who Will Oppose.

_“Ich nehme es.”_

The wandmaker gives a relieved smile. The Future Shifts.

* * *

He looks at Albus and can't remember when they had met. Had it Been a Minute, a Day, a Week? Had he kissed him yet? Or Had Albus kissed him? He cannot remember. Albus’ hand lands on his arm, grounding him, and he is back in the Present. It had been a Week. They have not kissed yet. Gellert smiles and leans in to rectify that.

Albus lips part in a gasp. The Future Shifts.

* * *

He arrives on the Godric’s Hollow one summer evening, with only his clothes on his back. There was no reason to go home; No reason to subject himself to his parent’s disapproval. They will die within a Year, in any case. Or they will not. There is always Possibility. But whatever the Outcome is, he never intends to see them again. He smiles wryly. Never say Never. What a truth that saying holds. Never is not something that Exists. Never from the words not and ever, not from _nōht_ and ever from _ā in feorh_. Never is Not Ever in Existence.

He follows the narrow paths between the houses, breathing in the History in the buildings around him. It Has Been carved into their stones, etched into their wood. If he closes his eyes, he almost tastes it in the air. Houses get torn apart, and homes get built, they burn, they shatter, they fade away in Time. As he walks, they crumble and rise around him. He opens his eyes, and he is standing before a cottage. He climbs the stairs and the Past burns behind him.

He climbs the stairs, and the Future unfurls.

* * *

The girl watches him from around the corner. She is pretty/a force of destruction/frail/bleeding/crying/murderer/a corpse in a very childlike way in her blue dress, clutching a threadbare doll to her chest. The girl is so full of Shatterpoints she is like a porcelain doll that has been dropped on the floor too many times. The paleness of her skin and the blue of her dress does nothing to change the impression. She has Potential.

Gellert smiles and winks at her. She blushes and hides behind her doll.

* * *

Someone is screaming. The fire rages. The world is made of ash and blood. Albus looks at him, and there are tears in his eyes. _Stop this_, he begs.

_Stop this._

* * *

Durmstrang is not what he hoped it would be. It’s just as any other place, with dull people and their duller thoughts. He spends his time researching for the Hallows, for he has Known them to be True since he first Saw. His parents disapprove of his low marks on subjects he Sees no use for, but it has been a Long Time since he last cared what they thought of him. His classmates find him both charming and strange in equal measure. He plays with them when he wishes, amusing himself by making them show their devotion, to prove their worth to him. He cares for none of them. None of them are his Equal. They are Blind as they are dull; content to stay in the shadows, hiding from the light. They do not even seem to notice the shackles in their hands. But Gellert Sees them. Gellert cannot Unsee them.

Gellert Will break them Free.

* * *

After his sister, his brother is disappointing. A dour look upon his face, he is rude/screaming/crying/a bartender/a goat herder. Gellert Looks at him once and deems him Unimportant.

* * *

“I See things,” Gellert whispers one night, lying amongst the sheet of Albus’ bed, his skin still sticky with sweat. The room is dark, and he cannot see anything. He wonders what makes him say it. What makes him tell it to Albus when he has never revealed it to anyone else. Perhaps the absolute darkness of the room and the silence that has been drawn over them like a heavy blanket made him momentarily feel as if he was the only one in the room, and he was only confessing to the night, whispering his secrets into the wind, where they would disappear. Albus shifts beside him, the sheets moving as he rises onto his elbow. Gellert can feel him looking at him, but he knows he will Not See.

A warm hand, a soft hand, a hand wrinkled with age lands on his arm. The voice that comes from the darkness is filled with concern, if not a hint of alarm, “What do you mean? What sort of things?”

Gellert tilts his head, and if he squints his eyes, he can almost see him in the darkness, his outline drawn against the heavy curtains blocking the moonlight. He thinks of Death as he is described in the German tale of the Hallows - a shadow in the dark.

Shivering, he closes his eyes, and he Can See.

Wetting his lips, he starts to speak, his voice breathless with Knowing, “The Future, Things That Have Yet to Happen, Things That Have Happened and Things That Will Not Anymore, dark things, wonderful things. I See paths not taken, paths that Have Yet to Come. Most of all I See you. As you Were, as you Are, as you Could Be. As you Will Be.”

Albus is quiet, but Gellert can feel him tremble next to him, his hand slightly shaking against Gellert’s shoulder. Gellert wonders what expression is painted on his fair face. He wonders if he is afraid. And if he is, for whom? Gellert does not Know.

He cannot see in the dark.

Moments come and go in the quiet, Time moving along in the darkness surrounding them. Finally, Albus clears his throat and whispers, his voice hoarse as if he had been shouting, “And how will I be?”

Gellert raises his hands, reaching for his face in the dark. He finds it, caressing the soft skin with the back of his hand — the first hints of a growing beard scratch against his skin.

“You will be beautiful,” he whispers and draws the Mark of the Hallows on his cheek.

* * *

The spells flash against his eyes, making him temporarily Blind. He cannot See. Albus is shouting. _Stop this!_

_Stop this!_

But Gellert does Not Know what _this_ is.

* * *

Gellert looks at Dumbledore and sees the boy/the man/the professor/the murderer/the convict smiling at him politely, edges of exhaustion lingering around his eyes. He takes his hand and shakes. Dumbledore smiles/cries/shouts/pleads/_severus please_, his eyes twinkling with hidden amusement and with sureness that is born of talent, and Gellert Knows he will be Important.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you liked whatever this was *blows you kisses*
> 
> My Tumblr: bloodtroth


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